Exploring
by GwennielOfNargothrond
Summary: Young Curufinwë is adventurous and takes a sneak peak into his father's study. "Ooh! What s that...?" R


_Noldorin cuteness drabble created in an hour when I suddenly had the need to write something of Feanorian-family life. Inspired by Another Man's Cage by Dawn Felagund. All Characters belong to J. R. R. Tolkien. Reviews are warmly welcomed! :)_

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_**Exploring**_

Quietly. No one must see me. I check behind me. Too many times when I have been spying someone has lifted me up in their arms and carried me away. But I see no one. I look through the doorway. I am quite sure the room is empty. It was almost always empty. Amil would often ask Atar teasingly whether he really needed a study if he never spent time in it. Atar would smile and reply: "A study is a good place to keep your belongings in."

Our home is big. Really big. There is room for everyone, and we are allowed to sit in any of the chambers. Of course, all of us has their favourite place. For example Macalaurë is most commonly found in the big room that faces South. He says it has the best acoustics. Tyelkormo is mostly outside. He is a hunter and there are times he doesn't come home in days. When he returns he tells me all that has happened. And sometimes more. Just because I´m young doesn't mean I believe anything. Ambarussa does. They listen to Tyelkormo with bulging eyes. "I want to be a hunter too!" they say. I don't. Smith, is what I am. Noldor are craftsmen.

I push the door open and enter. Atar's study is magnificent. Of course I have been there before, but there is always something special about it. It is the scent and the silence. Or maybe it is because of the respect I show the room.

I walk to the dusty windows and look out. In the garden beneath me I see Maitimo, Macalaurë and Findekáno. I wonder why Findekáno is here and for how long he had been, because I hadn´t noticed him arrive. They talk together. Macalaurë looks up and stares for a moment at the window I am peeking through. For a split second I think he is going to reveal me, because he opens his mouth to say something. But then he smiles and turns back to the conversation of the others. I know he saw me, and I am grateful he didn't give me away.

I back away from the windows and begin to explore the desk. Texts in Atar's neat writing. Not being interested in his letters to I-don't-even-bother-to-know I leave them alone. Sneaking around I examine all interesting things I find. Jewels, emblems, crowns, pendants... Atar has done all of them! I hear a cough in the doorway. I turn around, and to my relief it is only Carnistir. I put a finger on my lips, to stop him from revealing me.

"I am only taking a look," I mouth to him. He rolls his eyes. "Just don't touch anything," he warns me and wanders off. I smile and continue my adventure. There are cupboards and shelves full of things Atar has made and in the corner is a sculpture Amil once gave to him, long ago before even Maitimo was begotten. Despite Carnistir's warnings I reach out for a quill on the desk. It is Atar's most beautiful quill and he is very fond of it. He received it from uncle Arafinwë, but I don't think he remembers - or wants to remember. A sudden thought pops into my head and I dip the quill in the open ink bottle at the edge of the table. I take an empty parchment from the pile and write. "C - u -"

"What are you doing?" I hear Atar's voice, drop the quill and swing around in fear only to see him standing right behind me. I hear the ink bottle hit the floor and smash into pieces. Staring down at my toes I mutter something incomprehensible. "Look up and speak louder," Atar says. "I did not raise you to be shy." He picks up the glass shards from the floor, puts them on the table and picks me up in his arms. "What were you doing?" he asks again.

"Writing..." I mumble. "I wanted to write my name."

"Your name?" Atar replies and I can hear that he isn't angry. I dare to look up and see that he is smiling. He picks up the parchment. To my horror I notice it wasn´t empty after all: on the other side is a half-completed letter to uncle Nolofinwë."I see that you only had time for the beginning," Atar comments. I keep quiet. Atar says nothing for a while. Then: "If you want to write you can sign this letter for me."

"By your name?"

"My name, your name, does it matter?"

I smile as I'm put down and given the quill.

"C - u - r - u - f - i - n - w- ë," I spell carefully trying to impress Atar despite my shaky writing.

Atar smiles. He ruffles my hair. "Do you want me to add ´Fëanáro`?" I ask him.

"No. Leave it that way," he laughs. Content with myself I put the quill where I found it. We both leave the room.

"What if Nolofinwë will think the letter is from me?" I ask Atar.

"Then let him think so," Atar says and I take his hand.

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Quenya glossary :

Atar = quenya for father  
Amil = quenya for mother  
Curufinwë = both Fëanor and his son Curufin to whom he gave his own name  
Maitimo = Maedhros  
Macalaurë = Maglor  
Tyelkormo = Celegorm  
Carnistir = Caranthir  
Ambarussa = both of the twins: Amrod & Amras  
Findekáno = Fingon  
Nolofinwë = Fingolfin  
Arafinwë = Finarfin


End file.
